


Saturation

by Joyous32



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Bartender Grantaire, Christmas Eve, Depression, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 05:03:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13139640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joyous32/pseuds/Joyous32
Summary: On Christmas Eve, Grantaire is bartending while Enjolras is escaping from whatever is at home.





	Saturation

It was Christmas Eve and the only people in the bar were the sad ones. Grantaire could feel the energy—or the lack thereof. People were here to avoid overbearing families, or to forget the lost ones. They were here to forget anything at all that could be remembered, rather than be forced to wake up clear-headed with some knowledge of what they were missing. Joy. Family. Love. A lack of pain.

The Christmas music was doing nothing to help the ambiance, merely adding to the misery or stress of some, while being ignored by the others. Some sang along, already too drunk to care about the words or the irritation of others.

There was one spark of light, but Grantaire wasn’t sure if he was a spark because he was happy or because he was pretty. The frown on his face led Grantaire to believe the latter was truer. However, this man wasn’t prettier than the bartender beside him, Grantaire realized. At least, not conventionally. Blond hair and blue eyes were the sun to match a dark-haired beauty’s moon. Of course, maybe Grantaire was just one to prefer the sun.

“Anything else I can grab for you?” Grantaire asked as he wiped down the bar in front of the bright man.

“Do you have family to go home to?” The man demanded and Grantaire blinked. This man’s cheeks were slightly tinged red, but that very well could have been a response to the crisp outside air. His eyes were cuttingly focused, so Grantaire decided to engage.

“If I did, why would I be here?” Grantaire pointed out.

“Escapism.” The man rolled his eyes. “Or you couldn’t get the evening off.” The man rubbed the heel of his hand against his eyes and then ordered another drink as Grantaire had originally asked. Grantaire headed off to make it, but watched as the wheels in the man’s mind turned.

“What are you in for?” Grantaire leaned across the bar as he slid the drink to the man.

“You make it sound like a prison.” The sunny man gave a sad smile and looked in the cup as if expecting there to be something floating there. Grantaire didn’t know how to respond to that act.

“You think it’s not?” Grantaire held out his folded hands.

“I already said that I could be here to escape.” He took a sip of his drink and Grantaire stopped from laughing. This drink was meant to be chugged back, not daintily sipped at. The man’s wrinkled nose agreed with him.

“Escape what?”

“My family.” The man finally grunted and Grantaire smirked.

“So the cell is at home and you’re in the yard, having a smoke.” Grantaire offered with rolled eyes and the man raised an eyebrow. “The very idea of escapism means that you’re already trapped.” Grantaire leaned back onto his feet to wipe at nothing on the bar.

“Philosopher?” The man suggested, gesturing to Grantaire, who shook his head. The man knocked back a gulp of his drink, but Grantaire didn’t see much actually gone from the cup when it returned to its place on the bar.  

“Art major drop out.” Grantaire shrugged. “Should’a gone with financing like my dad said. I was never good at math, though.” Grantaire clicked his tongue and Enjolras blinked at that.  

“Screw the old folk.” Enjolras toasted Grantaire, who chuckled as Enjolras chugged down some more. “We’ll show ‘em what for.” Enjolras choked and Grantaire stopped from outright laughing.

“What’s your name?” Grantaire asked.

“Why do you ask?” The man stiffened slightly. Normally, there was an unspoken rule. Don’t ask names if they aren’t already given. Here, you could be nameless if you wanted. Unless, of course, the police showed up—then you were on your own.

“Otherwise I’m gonna forever refer to you as Apollo.” Grantaire shrugged, but the man smiled and the halo around him brightened.

“Why ‘Apollo’?” He continued to inquire rather than answer the question sent his way, and Grantaire sighed.

“You’re brightest person here.” Grantaire informed him, and the man raised an eyebrow, not asking for an explanation.

“Name’s Enjolras. Though, I don’t think I mind ‘Apollo’.” Enjolras scratched at his neck, avoiding eye contact as he smiled like he was pleased with himself, yet embarrassed for such pleasure.

“Why’s that?” Grantaire drew Enjolras’s attention back.

“Idea of bringing sunshine, joy.” Enjolras answered with a mild blush and Grantaire nodded. “Anyway, you haven’t given me your name.”

“R.” Grantaire handed the woman two seats down her check after seeing her wave him over.

“R?” Enjolras reiterated.

“Yes.” There was actually a good portion of Enjolras’s drink gone now. Part of Grantaire wondered if Enjolras had dumped it on the floor or in a planter.

“That’s a letter, not a name.” Enjolras pointed out and Grantaire narrowed his eyes at him.

“Maybe it’s mine.”

“Be serious.”

“I believed you.” Grantaire laughed, enjoying Enjolras’s confusion.

“What’s it short for?” Enjolras cut to the chase and Grantaire grinned.

“Grantaire.” He finally admitted and Enjolras nodded.

“After all, I don’t want to be constantly referring to you as ‘R’, now, do I?” Enjolras smirked at him and Grantaire rolled his eyes.

“Well, that is what I’m known as, ‘round here.” Grantaire shrugged and Enjolras huffed.

“Why are you here?” Enjolras changed the subject as Grantaire refilled his cup.

“I work here.”

“No, but why are you here tonight? You could be off enjoying yourself.”

“This is how I enjoy myself.” Grantaire held his arms out as a fight broke out a few seats away. Grantaire rolled his eyes at the timing. The other bartender was dealing with it, so Grantaire left it be, though he kept an eye out for a need to call the cops.

“What are you escaping?” Enjolras asked, turning away from the fight when it lost its interest.

“Who said I was escaping anything?”

“I did. That’s the only other reason I could imagine you’d be here. Unless the money really is that good.” Enjolras suggested and Grantaire raised an eyebrow.

“Escapism.” Grantaire nodded. “It’s a good point. I’m here to escape my mind, I guess.” He explained and Enjolras tilted his head, resting his cheek against his cup as he listened. This man was tired; what was so bad at home that he’d rather fall asleep with his head in a beer? “I’ve got nothing real to be sad about. Just the idea of endings.”

“Endings make you sad?” Enjolras seemed to be trying to humor him at this point, so Grantaire looked around for something else to do.

“Change makes me sad, so yes, endings make me sad.” There was literally nothing else to do. There were so few people here.

“What are you ending?” Enjolras asked softly.

“The happy spirits that flood the streets this time of year. Everyone’s so happy and gooey, it’s almost disgusting. Except, somehow, it isn’t.” Grantaire remarked, avoiding eye contact.

“That’s not ending. Tomorrow’s Christmas.”

“And the day after that?” Grantaire raised an eyebrow and Enjolras thought about it, still not seeming to understand. “It’s so close to ending.” Grantaire grumbled, knowing that a level of understanding within this bright man was next to impossible.

“The actual day hasn’t even come yet.” Enjolras insisted.

“Can’t wait for it to be finished.” Grantaire grunted.

“I thought you didn’t like endings?”

“Yes, but once it’s ended, there’s no more fear of the end.” Grantaire remarked and Enjolras stared in confusion. Maybe he had managed to scare Apollo off with his paradoxical pessimism. “Such is the mind of a cynic.” Grantaire shrugged and Enjolras furrowed his eyebrows together as he considered this.

“I think that’s called depression, R.” He offered and Grantaire rolled his eyes.

“Yes, good observation. So, there’s my other point. Why be around people who are happy when it only depresses me because I know it will end? Why be around people who are happy when I will only depress them?” Grantaire tipped back a cup of water like it was a shot. “I’d rather observe the misery of others and somehow prove to myself that I am happier than they.”

“You think your depression is so strong that it will rub off on others rather than their joy rubbing off on you?” Enjolras pointed out and Grantaire shrugged, wondering why that was what Enjolras had come away with. 

“That’s how it always is.” Grantaire remarked and Enjolras’s eyes lit up.

“When are you off?” Enjolras asked and Grantaire narrowed his eyes, not liking where this was going. “Grantaire, if you say that I’m the brightest person you know—”

“Not what I said—”

“Then maybe my joy can defeat your depression.” Grantaire realized now why Enjolras was the brightest person in the room.

“It’s not some monster that you can heroically save me from, Enjolras.” Grantaire quipped.

“If people understand you, they shouldn’t be that easy to depress.”

“That ideology has yet to prove itself fact.” Grantaire raised an eyebrow.

“Is change that scary?” Enjolras asked and Grantaire’s heart pounded. _Yes._

But really, who knew? Was it the fear of change, or was it the fear of Enjolras’s failure? Seeing Enjolras as someone untouched by failure seemed like a much better option. He preferred Enjolras to stay perfect, which meant not getting to know Enjolras’s failures. There was sorrow in the idea of never meeting Enjolras again, but still some silver lining. Because then, maybe he’d have something to strive for. Or at least, something to admire.

“You’re not going to fix me.” Grantaire determined, watching Enjolras’s eyes as closely as he could. There was no fading resolve in that ocean.

“You don’t need to be fixed.” Grantaire refused to believe that. He refused to even hope for it. And yet, hope shone through the dreariness of this man’s stance and expressions to bring a light that saturated everyone else in the bar.

“You don’t know me.”

“Let me.” Enjolras insisted with those bright, hopeful eyes and Grantaire blinked in the light. He sighed.

“Now how could I refuse that?” Enjolras grinned.


End file.
